No Longer That Girl
by Misha
Summary: You're no longer that girl.


No Longer That Girl  
By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine, so please don't sue me.

Author's Notes- This is just my take on Veronica chopping off her hair. We know it happened sometime after Shelley Pomroy's party. It's second person, because for some reason when it comes to _Veronica Mars_ fics, I'm in love with second person, present tense. Well, that's all enjoy!

Summery- You're no longer that girl.

Pairing- Some Veronica/Duncan

Rating- PG

Spoilers- Pilot.

* * *

You drive a half an hour outside of Neptune to a small haircutting salon. 

You wanted to go somewhere where no one would know you for this. You know if you went somewhere in Neptune, there'd be a lot of stares and you're sick of people staring at you and whispering behind your back.

Besides, this is the first step towards becoming a new Veronica and you want to do it a new place, a place that holds no memories of the old Veronica.

The hairdresser tries to talk you out of it, when you tell her you want her to chop all your hair off. "Honey, are you sure?" She asks, examining your head of long, glossy blonde hair.

"Yes." You tell her without hesitation.

You haven't had anything more than a trim done to your hair since you were nine years old, so this is seven years worth of hair that you're throwing away. You think it should bother you, but it doesn't.

This hair is a symbol of a life that's no longer yours, of a Veronica that you no longer are. You want it gone, because it reminds of everything that you lost.

As the hairdresser begins to chop, obviously hearing the conviction in your voice, your thoughts wander.

Your mother used to stand behind you, lovingly brushing your hair.

_"100 strokes Veronica, always 100 strokes."_

You can't count how many times she told you that.

Long after you were old enough to brush your own hair, your mom would still come into your rooms sometimes and brush it for you as you talked about nothing and everything. It was your own private ritual.

Of course, your mom's gone now.

**Snip**. A chunk of your hair falls to the floor.

Lilly used to braid your hair.

Her hair was long too, but she liked yours better. She loved to play with it. Everytime, you two had a sleepover, she'd braid it, entwining it with colourful ribbons.

_"What colour should we use this time Veronica?"_

But Lilly's gone now too, and unlike your mom, there's no chance of her coming back. And you don't think you ever want to braid your hair with colorful ribbons again without Lilly.

**Snip.** Another long chunk of hair hits the floor.

Duncan was always playing with your hair.

He used to love to run his fingers through it when you two were alone and when you were in public, he would twirl a piece of it around his finger.

_"Baby, don't ever cut your hair. It's so beautiful."_

But since Duncan isn't even talking to you, he probably won't care if you cut your hair. After all, he seems to have forgotten that you ever lay in his arms while he ran his fingers through your hair.

**Snip**. There goes another chunk.

Logan used to pull your hair. Something about your long tresses fascinated him, because he'd always reach over and yank them. You used to think Logan had a hair thing, because he was always playing with Lilly's and pulling yours.

_"Come on, Ronnie, you know you love it."_

You imagine that if Logan were to pull your hair now it would be to cause you physical pain, not because he couldn't resist touching it.

**Snip**. It's almost all gone now.

When you woke up that morning at Shelley's, your hair was fanned out on the pillow. It was wild and tangled, fitting for that morning.

**_Abel, it should have been her._**

It was later that morning, in front of your bedroom mirror, that you decided to cut it. You hated your hair, hated the idea that **he**, whoever he was, might have touched it like Duncan used to.

**Snip. **The last chunk falls to the floor.

"I'm just going to even it out now." The hairdresser tells you.

You look down at the floor, at the pile of hair.

It's strange, you thought you'd feel something. Some loss or regret.

But, you don't, you're glad the hair's gone. Each snip, each chunk of it represents to you someone or something you've already lost or suffered through.

Your mom. Lillly. Duncan. Logan. The rape.

Cutting your hair won't make you forget your pain, but maybe it'll help you stop hanging on to the past.

"There, what do you think?" The hairdresser asks as you finish.

You look at your new short hair.

Too short to have to be brushed 100 times with loving care.

Too short to braid with colourful ribbons, or at all.

Too short to really be able to play with.

Too short to yank on teasingly.

Too short to fan out over a pillow.

You smile. "I love it."

You cast one last look at the pile of hair on the floor and realize your leaving more than your hair behind, your leaving behind the old Veronica.

You're not that girl anymore and your new hair shows that to the world. You smile for the first time since Lilly died.

You're a whole new Veronica now and it feels good.

- End


End file.
